


Through the Looking Glass

by Aryagraceling, MagnusTesla



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anxiety, Cuddling, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Gift Giving, Injury Recovery, KakaIru Week 2019, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nervousness, Non-Explicit Sex, body image issues, prompt: firsts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 03:57:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20576084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryagraceling/pseuds/Aryagraceling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnusTesla/pseuds/MagnusTesla
Summary: Four snapshots of the firsts in Kakashi and Iruka's relationship.





	Through the Looking Glass

Kakashi is afraid. Where once life whisked him away in the current, wear and tear on his body the only way to count the passage of time, it’s now slowed. He hadn’t meant to let anyone slip through the cracks in his carefully constructed fortress of safety, but he has, and he is paying for it in fear and seconds that drag on like hours. He’s paying for it with every exhale, every inhale that creates a vacuum between them, drawing them closer together. 

Pale lashes brush over paler cheeks as he pulls into himself, pulls away slightly from the person stealing his air, his space, his heart that beats faster at the mere thought of what he knows has to happen right now. The fact that he’s held on to his mask for seventeen years now doesn’t mean that he _should, _but the way Iruka’s looking up at him has him feeling like he needs to run.

He should.

Iruka’s meant for better things. He’s meant for the first rays of sunlight breaking through storm clouds, not Kakashi. He’s meant for the way the wind whispers through the trees and tresses of deepest brown, not Kakashi. He’s meant for the ripple of waves, the cries of a newborn baby, the way flowers look braided together and draped from his hands.

He’s not meant for Kakashi, but he wants him anyway.

Iruka’s fingers dance over the dappled pattern of scars on Kakashi’s hand, pulling it into the light pooling between them from the streetlamp above. They should both be asleep, but a quiet dinner date turned into Kakashi spilling secrets, and both of them know those are secrets he can’t be alone with. Not when his hands are as bare as his soul and he wants to run as far as he can from the man who’s unraveling his inhibitions.

Kakashi is afraid, because sinking into Iruka’s affection is dangerous.

It’s all he wants to do. He wants to let warm fingers twine with his without thinking that he might kill this one too, and without the knowledge that his own fingers were wrapped around someone’s throat just yesterday to choke the life out of them. He wants to let himself go, throw his inhibitions to the night sky and just _ be, _but he can’t, and he ha--

“Kakashi?” Iruka asks softly. In the seconds Kakashi’s been contemplating, the chunin’s snuck back into his space and is cradling a lethal hand directly over his heart. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Kakashi says. Then, nearly drowned out by the sound of an owl, “Maybe.”

The quiet puff of air that passes for a laugh as it escapes Iruka’s lips sets the hair on Kakashi’s forearm to rising. “You’re holding something back,” Iruka says. “Did I push too far?”

_ Not far enough. _Kakashi wants all the things he’s done to bubble to the surface, push Iruka away before it’s too late. He wants Iruka to push until there’s nothing left, but he doesn’t say so. He only takes his hand back. It sits heavy between the pockets on his flak vest, pink and pale nestled between olive green as he meets Iruka’s eyes. “No.”

Iruka’s cheeks pinken as they lift in a smile. “That’s good,” he says, averting his gaze and scuffing a foot in the dirt. “Care to let me know what’s on your mind, then?”

Kakashi’s vision narrows to the thin line of the scar marring Iruka’s nose as he steels himself. His throat clicks as he attempts to swallow before speaking. “Something I need to do,” he whispers. “Something I haven’t done in too long.”

“Oh?”

“Close your eyes.” Kakashi watches dark lashes close before reaching up and hooking a finger in the fabric that’s kept him safe all these years. It whispers over stubbled cheeks to rest against his throat, heavy with the weight of the unknown. He’s nothing special. There’s no horrors to hide, no beauty to disguise.

Simply another faceless shinobi.

Iruka’s breath hitches when Kakashi’s fingers ghost over his. “Tell me what to do,” the younger man whispers.

“Touch me,” Kakashi says. “Look at me.” He shuts his eyes as Iruka’s open and tips his head down to rest against Iruka’s temple. “Tell me now if you don’t want this,” he mumbles, threading scarred fingers through Iruka’s ponytail. “I’m not like you. I’m not _ good.” _

“You’re right,” Iruka says, and Kakashi’s heart clenches before Iruka tips his chin up with two fingers. His grin could light the night if he let it. “You’re not me.” The back of his hand comes to caress Kakashi’s cheek, and Kakashi bites back a whimper at what comes next. “And you’re better than good. You’re beautiful, even the messy parts. You’re worth more than you give yourself credit for. I promise.”

Yes, Kakashi is afraid...but this unknown future may be worth it.

**

Iruka is 18 and he's finally having his first kiss.

He's been dating Kakashi for just over a year now, but they've been taking things slow. Kakashi isn't like everyone else, and he's certainly not at all like a wolf that people liken him to. He’s instead a deer, easily spooked--approach too fast or push too hard and he's likely to bolt.

Many of his friends have long since had their first kiss, he knows, having been teased relentlessly about it for some time now, but he doesn't care. Not when there's a soft pair of lips currently pressed against his. Kakashi’s quivering hands belie his confident face--he’s just as nervous as Iruka, but he's _ here, _wanting and willing.

The kiss starts chaste, gentle and unsure, slightly hesitant before Iruka turns bold, sweeping his tongue into Kakashi's mouth, messy and so very clumsy. Scarred hands gently cup his face, tilting his head just so and oh, _ oh. _ The kiss feels good, too good, and soon he's breathless, pulling back to look at his jounin lover's face with eyes glassy and lips kiss-bruised. 

Fuck, if that doesn't just send a bolt of desire to the warmth curling low in his stomach.

"Okay?" Kakashi asks, touching their foreheads together. His fingers are wound in chocolate tresses, gently playing with the soft strands.

"That was -" Iruka feels absolutely lost for words. His mind spins, totally undone by a simple kiss. He wonders if this is how it feels for everyone. Kakashi kisses like a storm - wild, furious and all consuming. It leaves his body feeling like lightning chakra has been forced under his skin, pulsing rhythmically in time with the blood in his veins as it sets every nerve alight.

"Yeah," Kakashi agrees, placing open mouthed kisses up Iruka's neck, wet tongue laving against a thundering pulse. Those same nervous hands stiffen up, gripping his hips tight enough to bruise, and Iruka can feel Kakashi hard against his thigh, trembling with arousal as he ruts gently, pulling their bodies closer.

"Kakashi, wait." He slowly pulls back and puts a bit of distance between them. Iruka knows that his lover isn't a virgin, has done this and more. That Kakashi is rutting against his thigh just drives the point home and he feels slight panic bubbling up from his chest.

So many things race through his mind. Was the kiss okay? Does he want Iruka to go further than kissing?

_ Is he going to get frustrated if I say no? _

He wants Kakashi, wants every little piece of him, but he doesn't know if he's ready to take the leap into having sex. The thought of having his partner deep inside is both exhilarating and terrifying, and his eyes widen as the potential gravity of the situation pulls him back to earth.

"I can hear you thinking," Kakashi says, humour lacing his voice. "If you're not careful, smoke will start coming out of your ears."

Iruka huffs a small laugh, closes his eyes and lets his head tip back against the back of the sofa. He knows he's over thinking things, letting anxiety take root and cause panic. It's so hard not to let it take over, let past experiences with Mizuki taint what he has with Kakashi. Deep down he knows Kakashi would never push his boundaries but anxiety lies, fills his mind full of doubt and worry.

"I- I want to pleasure you but I don't think I'm ready to have you inside me." He swallows, once, twice before taking a deep breath and opens his eyes to look at his lover. Another quavering inhale and he laces their fingers together, marvelling at the contrast between bronze and milky white, yin and yang. "I'm sorry, please don't think I'm being a tease."

The silence is almost deafening and Iruka prepares himself for a scolding that never comes. Instead, there's a gentle tug of his hands, and then he's in Kakashi's lap. "Iruka, I would never think that. There doesn't have to be any penetration.” Kakashi smiles, nosing into where Iruka’s jaw meets his throat before he smirks. “We _ could _ have sex just like this," he says, pulling Iruka down so that they grind against one another. “But only if it’s something you’d like.”

The action pulls a gasp out of Iruka, mouth open as he stares at Kakashi's face. He wants this, wants to make Kakashi feel good, wants to see his gorgeous face when orgasms hits. "Please," he begs, hands resting on muscled shoulders as he leans forward to press their mouths together in a heated kiss.

There's absolutely no finesse when he unzips their pants, pushing underwear down as far as it will go and exposing their hard cocks to the air. He’d be happy to continue like this, grinding himself down into Kakashi's lap and enjoying the push and pull of sweat slicked skin, but Kakashi has other ideas, pulling their hands down together to wrap around them both as he strokes sure and firm.

Iruka moans, the sounds muffled by their kiss when he tries pressing their hot bodies even closer together. They are frantic in their kissing and grinding and stroking. Both are wound so tight, ready to snap and then suddenly they’re teetering on the edge, falling over together into an orgasm so intense that Iruka cries into Kakashi’s mouth as a distracting grey dances along the sides of his vision. 

Kakashi shifts below him, and suddenly the ceiling is several feet closer and spinning as Kakashi carries him down the hall. He reaches for Kakashi when the jonin retreats to the bathroom for a cloth, but soon they’re clean and the sound of a strong heartbeat underneath his ear with warm covers pulled up across his body has Iruka boneless. Kakashi breathes deeply, his body unmoving and arms curled possessively around him.

Feelings of happiness and warmth wash over his body, drowning the insecurities that had plagued his mind. He smiles to himself when he looks up to see Kakashi's face, slack with sleep and totally unguarded.

Iruka is 18, and he couldn't be happier.

**

Iruka is 19 and for the first time, he's telling Kakashi that he loves him.

Their evening starts like any other that Kakashi is due to leave on a mission the following day; a hearty dinner consisting of the silver haired jounin’s favourite food, followed by cuddles together on Iruka’s sofa and Kakashi staying the night. It’s become a ritual, a way for them to make the most of their time together before a mission because life on and after a mission is never guaranteed.

If Iruka is honest with himself, part of him wishes that Kakashi didn’t have to go out on such dangerous missions. Sure he keeps the village safe, but at what cost? The missions are brutal, both physically and emotionally, and he hates seeing how it weighs heavily on his partner. There are times where Kakashi comes back from ANBU missions practically drowning in fury and grief, so lost in the Hound persona that it takes hours to bring him out of it.

He remembers the first time he’d been faced with Hound; the ANBU had suddenly appeared in Iruka’s bedroom, killing intent wild and lashing out. The experience had been terrifying and he’d expected the worst, but once the mask was off, Kakashi had simply asked to be held before breaking down.

Iruka sighs, his tired body slumping back into the old sofa, as he tries not to worry about what state his lover will come home in this time. He knows about duty, the will of fire and all that it embodies. He just wishes that Kakashi didn't have to keep sacrificing his soul when he's already given so much. _ Lost _ so much.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Kakashi asks, setting down their cups of tea onto the low coffee table.

“It’s just... I worry and miss you while you’re gone. This never gets any easier. Not to mention, I’m not looking forward to marking all of those homework sheets. I might have gone a bit overboard with the amount I set this week.” Iruka sighs again, ink stained fingers tracing the scar cutting across his nose. He’d _ definitely _gone a little over the top with the homework, but it would keep him busy while Kakashi was gone.

They sit in silence, and for a moment he thinks that he’s upset Kakashi, the topic of his missions a sore point.

Kakashi takes Iruka’s hands, entwining their fingers together and smiles softly.

Iruka is grateful for the contact and the silent reassurance as the tension in his frame slowly melts away.

“C’mere, Ru.”

He doesn’t need telling twice, swiftly moving closer and pressing himself right up against the jounin’s side. He’s warm and _ here _ and his arms are around Iruka’s waist, holding him tight. There’s no time for disagreements, because in the morning he’ll have already gone. They can’t keep avoiding the elephant in the room, but it can wait for another time. Sometime when he doesn’t have to worry these moments will be their _ final _moments.

Kakashi’s hand moves up Iruka’s side, softly trailing his fingers up until he buries them in long strands and massages Iruka’s scalp to draw appreciative moans from deep in his chest. Anxiety flows from him with every passing second and when Kakashi is finished, Iruka’s almost asleep, his limbs so loose that he’s sure he might just melt into a puddle of goo.

“Good?”

“Mmmm,” Iruka hums, coherent thought just out of reach.

“Hey, don’t close your eyes just yet. I have something for you,” Kakashi says, reaching his other arm over the side of the sofa to a large parcel wrapped in paper.

Iruka gapes at it when it’s placed on his lap. Why a gift? His birthday was four months ago, and he’d already given him a gift back on the day--

“Stop thinking and open it.”

Tentatively he does as ordered, and when he catches a glimpse of what’s inside, he bursts into tears. It’s a deep red woolen blanket. _ Kakashi’s _ blanket. The very one that Iruka sneaks into Kakashi’s apartment to cuddle up with when he’s away.

"Thank you," Iruka whispers, unwrapping the rest of the blanket. He swallows down the sobs threatening to escape.

"You're welcome." His pale hands cup Iruka's face, thumbs gently brushing away the tears.

They lay the blanket over their laps, the heavy wool rasping over their uniform pants as it catches on zips and buttons. Kakashi pulls the blanket higher, tucks the corner behind Iruka's shoulder and hugs him close against his chest. The sound of his heart, beating fast, belies his cool exterior. Iruka can tell in the way he can feel and hear the organ thudding underneath his ear.

Any thoughts he had about Kakashi’s nerves scatter when talented fingers bury themselves in his long hair again. As his eyes close, he catches a glimpse of Kakashi's face, uncovered as it always is these days but also open, lips quirked up in a genuine fond expression. "I love you,” he says. The words slip out without thought, and he shuts his eyes too quick to see the way Kakashi’s shocked look gives way to a blinding smile, mismatched eyes brimming with tears.

As sleep claims him, he's sure he hears an answering "I know."

Iruka is 19, and he’s exactly where he wants to be. 

**

Kakashi is at a loss. It's nearly never that he has to beg Iruka into letting himself accept help. When he's sick, Kakashi cares for him with cool cloths, tea, and whatever else he desires. When he's upset, languishing in feelings and scowling out the window about something he may or may not be able to change, Kakashi is there to tell him it'll all be all right in the end.

Iruka's not allowing him that now.

Kakashi hears him groaning in pain in the middle of the night when he gets up to go to the bathroom. He hears him in the morning when he reaches for a coffee mug that's just too far out of his range of motion, and then again in late afternoon as he discards his crutches and sinks onto the couch with his head in his hands. He hears him when Iruka thinks he's asleep, crying quietly outside their bedroom about the beauty he thinks he's lost.

Kakashi's been with him through so much. All he wants is to be there for his partner now, when he's most vulnerable and needs him most. He wants to rub along Iruka's spine the way Iruka loves, but he _ can’t, _and won’t for a long time. His fist clenches at the unwelcome memory of seeing a fuma shuriken embedded in his beloved's back.

It’s something he'll never forgive, and he'll never forget.

To Iruka's credit, he's become more forward in the weeks following the attack. He no longer starts at the sight of Kakashi rounding a corner, no longer yelps like a ninken when he wakes to see a mop of grey on the pillow next to him. He's steadier, more like the Iruka Kakashi fell for years ago, but he still won't let Kakashi in.

He keeps saying he's not ready yet.

Kakashi understands the feeling all too well.

Tonight, Iruka's sitting topless but with the now-ragged red blanket wrapped tight around his shoulders. A rerun of the Icha Icha movies is on TV, but his eyes are staring far past the screen into somewhere Kakashi only goes on his bad days. He doesn't want Iruka to have bad days like his, ever. He doesn't want him to _ hurt. _

"Ru?" Iruka says nothing, and Kakashi shuts the TV off. "Please talk to me," he whispers hoarsely. "Even if you yell and say you want me to go away, or that you want to sit on the couch for the rest of your days. Just...something. Please."

"You always say that, you know," Iruka says, voice far away. "How I should want you to leave. I've never wanted that."

Kakashi holds his breath for the silent _ but _he can hear behind the words.

"I want to be normal again," Iruka breathes instead, grinding his palms into his eyes. "I want to go back and change it all so I don't have this...this..."

"Hurt?"

"Ugliness," Iruka grinds out. "It's horrible, Kakashi. I hate it."

“You’re allowed to hate it.”

“No, no,” Iruka says bitterly. “I spent so much time trying to convince you not to hate things about yourself, Kakashi. Don’t say that.”

“You’re allowed.” Kakashi leans forward, hesitant as he rests his forehead against the back of Iruka’s blanketed shoulder. His nose skims over fabric and over skin as he breathes deep the woodsy scent of the shampoo Iruka uses. “I just want to be here to help you.”

Iruka stills completely, even the beat of his pulse seeming to stop in the longest second Kakashi’s ever experienced. His mind whirls with things left unsaid, things he _ has _said and is now reconsidering at the pain bleeding through Iruka’s chakra signature. It’s different from the hurt he’s been feeling so acutely these last few months. It’s not the ache of a fractured body.

It’s the ache of a fractured heart.

The crimson cloth gives way to tan skin as inch by agonizing inch, Iruka lets it drop to the couch. Kakashi doesn’t glare at the gnarled skin. He doesn’t growl in frustration at what’s been done to his partner, doesn’t let the anger he feels toward Mizuki take root in his soul as Iruka’s shoulders tremble.

“Ugliness,” Iruka says thickly, and Kakashi grabs for his hands before he can pull the blanket back up. “I should’ve died in that forest.”

“No,” Kakashi says, his voice holding an echo of the tears so obvious in Iruka’s. He smiles, weak and tremulous in the low light of the lamp by the end table. He’s not sure he trusts himself with more than that, so he settles for pressing his lips to Iruka’s nape. When Iruka doesn’t protest, he drags them down, just an inch.

Seeking.

Iruka sounds _ exhausted _when Kakashi’s hands smooth over the small of his back, close to the stitch and staple marks that saved his life. “Why?”

“Because I have so much more to give you,” Kakashi says. His brow knits as Iruka begins to tremble. “Even if we grow old enough to be the men who scream about getting off of the lawn, it’ll never be enough. I swear.” He kisses harder, careful to mind the edges of the scar as his hands slide around to pull Iruka against him.

It’s this he’s missed for months now, Iruka in his arms and burying his face in Kakashi’s neck. It’s the feeling of being all right, even if tears stain his shoulder and Iruka’s clutching his hand hard enough to hurt as he finally allows himself to let _ go. _To grieve, to rage, to pour everything into the Iruka-shaped space Kakashi’s held inside himself for years now.

To begin healing.

He has the same hesitancy Kakashi had so long ago, on a moonlit night in the middle of Konoha when he’d shared too many secrets. There’s something familiar in the way his chest hitches in a gasp and in the way he answers _maybe _when Kakashi asks if this is too much, so Kakashi gently pulls the blanket back over his shoulders and cradles him close.

“I’m sorry,” they say at the same time, and both wear the same half-cocked smile as Iruka turns to press his forehead to Kakashi’s. “I love you” comes next, then “you first,” and then Iruka doesn’t give Kakashi the chance to say another word before he melds their lips slowly together. 

“You mean everything to me,” Kakashi whispers when they break apart. _ “Everything.” _

Iruka chokes out a soft, barely-there laugh before kissing Kakashi’s forehead, his nose, his cheeks. “From past to present, and still forward going into the future? Even if I’m--”

“Mine,” Kakashi interrupts before he can deprecate himself again. “Because you’re home. We’re...more than I’d ever dreamed of before you convinced me to get to know you.”

“I love you,” Iruka repeats, mouth moving against Kakashi’s chest as he buries his face. His arms come around Kakashi’s shoulders to surround him in the blanket as well, and even though there’s still anger, fear, frustration in his frame, he relaxes the slightest bit as their warmth mingles. “So much. For all you do and put up with, you know?”

“You mean like clean the dishes when you burn food?” Kakashi teases gently.

“Yeah.” Iruka smiles for real this time. “Like that. And giving me blankets, and memories, and trust…”

“Ohh, yeah, the stuff I saved just for you.” Kakashi nuzzles into the crown of Iruka’s head and hugs just the slightest bit tighter. “All the little things.”

“And big things,” Iruka says.

“And all the snapshots in between,” Kakashi murmurs, sinking into the man he knows is irrevocably his. His knuckles brush over Iruka’s collarbones on their way up to brush a stray hair from Iruka’s face and he watches the light flush that follows. “I’ll give it all for you. Always.”

Kakashi’s at a loss, yes...but he’s got the one person who can help nestled against his side, and that is enough for this quiet night.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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> 
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> 
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